The Rally that ended quickly
Today we’re obsessed with reliability, but in our youth we were just happy to be mobile, whatever the cost...
The start of our scootering careers could best be described as somewhat haphazard but the most important thing was getting some wheels. If you weren't out on the road, you were a social outcast. Banished to the role of spectator as everyone else disappeared in a haze of blue two-stroke fumes. It didn't matter what type of scooter it was or how poor its condition but life without a scooter was unthinkable.
One of the first of my friends to get a scooter was Eddie and he quickly went on to go through them like hotcakes. Having discovered that owning a smallframe Vespa meant living with a distinct lack of power, he rapidly upgraded to a Jet 200. Minor details such as not having passed his driving test did little to deter his enthusiasm and in his quest for speed a Fresco exhaust and 30mm Dell'Orto carburettor were bolted on. Two things happened very quickly, the Jet's speed improved and its reliability evaporated.
Soon after the bolt-on accessories arrived Eddie began an intensive training programme. His keenness to learn the art of bump-starting a Lambretta was being driven by the fact that this was the only way it would start. Add in the million or so other issues that the failing old Spanish machine seemed to be laden with and the scootering dream became rather hard work. The problem was that Eddie had grown used to the Jet's extra power. Even though he was keen to get rid of the old scooter, something equally as powerful needed to replace it.
As he scoured the local newspaper's classified section Eddie could be heard muttering: “I'm going to get a Vespa, they're reliable.” However a new problem was looming and this time it was financial. Finding a buyer for the Jet wasn't going to be easy – anyone who may be interested knew of its problems, and one of the club members pointed out that Eddie might even have to pay someone to take it off his hands. This left Eddie facing a huge shortfall in the amount of money a decent Vespa would cost, in the end his budget amounted to no more than a couple of hundred pounds.
At this point in stepped Karl, the club's answer to a second-hand car salesman. He had loads of old scooters stashed away and was soon rubbing his hands in anticipation of a deal.
It seemed that no sooner had Eddie mentioned his problems than a deal was done and he was the proud owner of a Vespa Rally. With its mighty 200cc engine it had plenty of go and was a match for the Jet, the bonus being that it would start first or second kick. The ‘Silver Streak' as someone named it looked impressive from 50 yards away, however, the closer you got the more things unravelled. In fairness the rattle-can finish was pretty good. Unfortunately most of the careful preparation had been done to hide more than a few cosmetic issues and a huge amount of rust.
The history of the scooter was unclear, but evidence suggested it had spent a lot of its life resting up againstst a tree. The floor had a unique feature, bending considerably even at the touch of a hand. Another giveaway was the side stand, which leaned the scooter over at a 45-degree angle. Of course that's perfectly normal but the floor was so rotten that you couldn't tell the difference between that and the centre stand. The Rally was effectively Vespa's answer to the leaning tower of Pisa.
For now that didn't matter, Eddie had his trusty scooter and even though the floor rattled and shook a bit at top speed it was tolerable. For the next few months Eddie's Rally lived up to Vespa's reputation, getting him around without any issues. However, cracks were beginning to appear in Eddie's plan for reliability, quite literally as the rust and rot began to take hold. Being ridden in all conditions wasn't doing the failing steel of the scooter's body any favours.
The Rally slowly started to disintegrate, a bit like an Easter egg that's been broken up to see what's inside. This was particularly noticeable at the rear of the frame where the coil mounting bracket was the only thing holding the rear light in place. Thankfully the side stand was clamping the underneath together and stopping it from drifting apart.
Even Eddie realised the situation was worsening but he vowed to hang on until he'd saved enough money to buy a decent replacement. Then, one day, salvation came in the unlikely form of the British road network. Whether or not Eddie could have negotiated around the pothole is anyone'sy guess but once the front wheel had entered its depths the ennd was nigh. The Rally's frame couldn't take it any more, the brackets and bungee cords holding it together gave way simultaneously and the frame collapsed in on itself. It was a strange sight. What had only a few moments before been recognisable as a scooter noww looked like something that hhadd bbeen through a car crusher, yet the engine still ran. All that passers-by could do was stand in bemusement and wonder what it had been.
We all knew exactly what it was: the end of Eddie's Rally and the start of a lucrative insurance claim...
At this point in stepped Karl, the club’s answer to a second-hand car salesman. He had loads of old scooters stashed away and was soon rubbing his hands in anticipation of a deal.